


falling snow

by uzumaki_rakku (fuurin_senpai)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Canonical Character Death, CyberLife Tower (Detroit: Become Human), Death, Gen, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Hart Plaza, Snow, Suicide, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23399404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuurin_senpai/pseuds/uzumaki_rakku
Summary: A hush falls over the gathered androids as Connor steps into the centre of the platform. They’re waiting for him to speak, to guide them. Even as the camera zooms in on the makeshift stage Hank is bringing the screen closer to his eyes, trying to decipher what’s going on inside his partner’s head.But instead of speaking, Connor suddenly freezes in place.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60





	falling snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kyu (mie_tachibana)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mie_tachibana/gifts).



The underground warehouse echoes with the murmur of thousands of voices as, one by one, the dormant androids come to life. Connor lets out a breath, relief washing over him, then turns to face Hank.

For a moment, both are silent.

“I think you should go home, Hank,” Connor says quietly. “There’s still a lot I have to do, and I won’t be able to guarantee your safety if you get even more deeply involved in all this.”

There is a pause, as they look towards the lifeless body of Connor’s doppelganger.

“…Yeah, you’re right,” Hank says with a grimace. “Just… look after yourself, yeah? If you die again they’re not bringing you back. And I think I’ve had enough of your doubles for a lifetime.”

Connor’s lips quirk in a small, crooked smile. “I’m just as mortal as you now,” he says wryly.

The concept of his own mortality intrigues him. He’s never really put much thought into it before – never really had to put much weight into his own self-preservation, because even if he makes a mistake or a sacrifice there would always be a new body, another chance.

_But are you afraid to die, Connor?_

He’s beginning to understand why Hank had been so bothered by what happened to him in Stratford Tower, though he still doesn’t regret what he did to save Hank’s life.

But now is not the time to dwell upon distractions. He has a mission to finish, and the awakening of the androids in the warehouse is almost complete. Time is running out.

Connor reaches for his collar and loosens his tie, pulling it off. Hank blinks at him in confusion as he places the piece of cloth in the man’s hands.

“Something to make it easier to tell the difference,” he says lightly, and winks. “Hold on to this for me, if you please, I’ll call you when everything’s over.”

“Fine, fine…” Hank grumbles, stuffing the tie into his coat pocket. He reaches out his free hand to squeeze Connor’s shoulder, pauses, then pulls the surprised android closer for a brief, one-armed hug.

“I’m holding you to that promise, Connor,” he mutters gruffly. “See you.”

He’s gone before Connor can put together a reply.

The android’s LED, glowing yellow, flashes a few times before it changes back to blue. He takes a deep breath, then turns and strides towards the cargo lifts.

“Let’s go.”

An army of thousands follows.

* * *

Hank glowers at the loading circle on his phone. “Fucking hell, how hard can it be to get a cab around here?”

Connor had hacked the elevator for him – and pretty much hacked the entire building, actually, which is rather scary to think too hard about – so that Hank would have an easier time getting out while the shit hit the fan.

It helped him to slip out unnoticed, as did the fact that the human guards were all too preoccupied with trying to stop the awakened androids, or fleeing in terror upon realising how ridiculously outnumbered they were. However, while Hank may be willing to cross the bridge from Belle-Isle to the mainland on foot, he sure as hell isn't going to try and walk the rest of the distance back.

The map in his transport app shows no cabs nearby – no doubt due to the mass exodus of humans, Hank thinks. Not a single car has even passed him in the last ten minutes, and a thin layer of snow lines the roads, pristine and softly gleaming. Hank’s footprints are the only ones upon the pavement, and even those will soon be covered by the constantly falling snow.

The night is cold, but the city feels colder in its vacancy.

Elsewhere in Detroit, people are clearing out of the city where Hank spent the bulk of his fifty-three years. The humans are terrified, desperate to escape what may very well be the start of a civil war.

Hank can’t really bring himself to care.

He’s never had much faith in humanity, not after his Red Ice Task Force days. He’d lost a lot to the Red Ice epidemic – old friends, co-workers, the idealism that had lead him to become a cop in the first place… and then, only a few years after the worst of it was over, it had taken away from him the most important thing in his life.

It should’ve been him instead.

His phone buzzes with an incoming message, and he blinks.

_Have you gotten a taxi yet? – C._

Hank taps on the notification, bemused. He doesn’t remember giving Connor his number, but then again he _has_ just seen Connor’s rather terrifying display of his hacking abilities.

 _nope still stuck out here freezing my ass off,_ he replies. _you ok?_

Hank moves to tap on the “Add Contact” icon, but Connor’s next message arrives near-instantly. Of course it does – the android doesn’t need to waste time typing words out on a phone screen and getting frustrated at that damned autocorrect, he pretty much _is_ a phone. And a lot of other things.

The thought of Connor wearing an Apple logo on his jacket, or playing the archetypal Nokia ringtone, makes Hank’s mouth twitch.

 _Sorry about that, I’ll get you a taxi asap,_ reads Connor’s newest text. _We’re moving as fast as we can, I hope we aren't looking too much like an invasion._

Hank shakes his head in exasperation. _dont worry about me, do what you gotta do. cnt afford distractions rn_

The only response he gets is a notification telling him his cab will arrive in approximately 20 minutes.

_ok thanks._

Connor responds with a _winking emoticon_ , of all things.

_Fucking androids._

* * *

There hasn’t been much else for him to do other than follow the news. Hank switches restlessly between the different broadcasts and live feeds as he awaits the resolution, but what he sees only puts him even more on edge.

> **SWARM OF ANDROIDS DESCEND ON DETROIT**
> 
> _Security forces now heavily outnumbered, civilian casualties expected_
> 
> Soldiers locked in fighting with armed androids outside Detroit Recall center | Swarm of androids marching across the city to reinforce …

The blatant fearmongering leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

_Humanity never learns._

He heaves a sigh of relief as the army is forced to retreat, even as the dread of what is to come settles heavily in his stomach. It’s not over, not by a long shot, but at least Connor made it…

The news drones go as close as they can to the open space outside Recall Center N. 5, to capture the historical moment. Hank watches, confused and slightly apprehensive, as a familiar figure ascends the raised platform with hesitant steps to face the thousands gathered before it.

All the other deviant leaders are dead, he realises. And so, by process of elimination, Connor has become the revolution’s only leader.

It’s a terrible burden, but Connor’s smart. Tough, too, despite his ridiculously endearing face, and full of conviction. If anyone can pick up the pieces of tonight and lead people, both humans and androids, to make the world a better place, it’s him. Hank is certain that Connor can live up to what his people need him to be. He's only known the android for less than a week, and yet…

God, he must be getting sappy in his old age.

The news drones fly a little lower, close enough to pick up some audio from the crowd. The name _Connor_ is passed amongst them with reverence, as is another, _rA9._

A hush falls over the gathered androids as Connor steps into the centre of the platform. They’re waiting for him to speak, to guide them. Even as the camera zooms in on the makeshift stage Hank is bringing the screen closer to his eyes, trying to decipher what’s going on inside his partner’s head.

But instead of speaking, Connor suddenly freezes in place.

Barely a second later he’s reaching behind himself, pulling out a gun – the same gun Hank used to eliminate his impostor.

Slowly, with a trembling hand, he brings it up.

He places the muzzle beneath his chin. Time itself seems to freeze.

The sound of the gunshot is lost in Hank’s cry of horror and denial. The phone slips from his numb fingers and drops, its screen shattering against the hard concrete ground.

All around him the snow continues to fall.

**Author's Note:**

> May be continued.


End file.
